Tea and Toxin
by wouldyouliketoseemymask
Summary: Jonathan Crane attends a most unusual tea party. Features a Nolanverse interpretation of The Mad Hatter.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own the rights to "Batman" or any of its characters, including Scarecrow, nor do I own any rights to the comics or the films. I own nothing save for any original characters I have created.

**A/N:** This was originally going to be a one-part story, but as I wrote it began to grow and grow until it ended up become rather lengthy. I decided to split it in half for two reasons: one being that I don't like for my one-shot stories to be extremely long, and dividing it makes it a bit more manageable for me, and the other reason is because I've been very busy lately and have not been able to upload any writing for at least a month and I did not want to keep my readers waiting for any longer. Posting the story in two parts resolves both issues. This story is 90% completed and the second part will be posted very soon—all I need to do is finish the ending and then edit.

Alright, now onto discussion of the actual story! One of my followers on Tumblr suggested that I write a fic featuring Crane working with The Mad Hatter, similar to their partnership in _The Long Halloween_. As Mad Hatter does not appear in the Nolanverse films (most unfortunately), I had to take some liberties with how to portray him. I decided to make him similar to how he was in _Arkham City_—absolutely obsessed with Alice, rambling, unpredictable, and very, _very_ creepy.

Enough chit-chat—I hope you enjoy the story!

**Tea and Toxin: Part One**

"More tea, Mr. Tetch?"

Jonathan Crane gestured towards the teapot he held in his hand and performed his best imitation of a warm, friendly smile, his lips curling back in a motion that felt both alien and unpleasant. The teapot was part of a set that had previously belonged to Granny Keeny; crafted from white porcelain and adorned with a delicate pink floral pattern, the set had been treasured by her and was by far the finest item she owned. It was a distinct contrast from the rest of her deteriorated and timeworn possessions, faded relics that served as painful reminders of the wealth she had lost years before Crane's birth and would never again enjoy. She had treated the set with great care—certainly more than she had ever deigned to bestow upon Crane—and as a child he had often fantasized about throwing every piece onto the ground and laughing as it shattered into a pile of broken china fragments while she looked on in horror. Instead, he had settled for boxing it away into a dark and dusty corner of his home along with the rest of his unwanted memories, and had completely forgotten about its existence until the moment that he realized it could finally be of some use to him.

The stubby man seated across from Crane gave no indication that he had heard him, his beady eyes darting frantically across the room as if he were desperately hopeful that he would catch even the slightest glimpse of whatever—or _whomever_—it was that he desired. His thin blond hair hung in stringy clumps underneath a tall green top hat, his body clad in a long velvet tail-coat that was two sizes too big and a suit with the pants legs rolled up to accommodate his short stature.

"Mr. Tetch?"

Tetch jumped, startled by the sound of Crane's voice. "W-w-w-w-what?" he stammered, his voice shaking. "W-w-w-who _are_ you? Where is Alice? Have you seen her?" He began to wring his hands in distress, fat tears of anguish and uncertainty threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes.

"My name is Dr. Crane," Crane replied calmly. "I'm here to help you, Mr. Tetch. Would you like some more tea?"

Tetch brushed away his tears with squat fingers, his expression of woe shifting to childlike wonder. "You _are_? Are you going to help me find Alice? We must hurry—if we don't find her soon then she'll be late for the party!" He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Silly, _silly_ girl. _Cruel_ little thing."

Crane leaned forward and poured tea into Tetch's cup, careful not to spill a drop onto the light pink tablecloth or the lace doily beneath the cup's saucer. "There is still plenty of time. Please, help yourself to some sugar."

"Are—are you _sure_?" Tetch asked, clearly doubtful and anxious to begin their search.

"I assure you that there is no need for urgency," Crane replied. "Now please, enjoy yourself."

He watched as Tetch hesitated for a restless moment before reaching for his spoon and delicately scooping sugar cubes from their bowl and into his cup, his every moment precisely executed as he stirred the sugar into the hot tea before bringing it to his lips and taking a quiet, elegant sip. It was clear that the hatter deeply valued manners and table etiquette, and had Crane been unaware of what Tetch was capable of he would have simply thought him to be an eccentric yet harmless man.

"Would you care for a lemon tart, Mr. Tetch, or perhaps a macaroon?" Crane gently placed a tray filled with an assortment of cakes and deserts in front of Tetch, who grinned widely with delight. "I prepared them myself for this very occasion."

"You _did_?" Tetch asked gleefully, enormously pleased with the effort Crane had put into their gathering. He carefully selected a tart from the tray and took a tiny, dainty bite before placing it neatly onto his plate and patting his lips with his napkin.

"Oh yes," Crane replied. "I used instructions from my grandmother's recipe book. She was quite fond of parties and luncheons in her youth. In fact, this tea set used to belong to her."

"It's _lovely,_" Tetch said in an awe-struck tone, admiring the pieces set atop the table. "Tell her that I said it was pretty and fragile and _perfect_."

"Thank you, Mr. Tetch, that's very gracious of you. The set is actually mine now. Would you like to have it?"

"W-w-w-w-w-_what_?"

"I need your assistance with a favor, Mr. Tetch. If you do what I ask, the tea set is yours."

Tetch cast his eyes downward, shuffling his dangling feet anxiously. "I-I-I was told not to help with favors anymore," he said in a quiet, wobbling voice . "The people with the white coats and the clipboards and the _pills_ made me promise them before I left..." His voice trailed off and he fell silent, his lower lip jutting out into a pout.

"Before you left Arkham Asylum," Crane finished, and Tetch winced upon hearing the institution's name.

"I d-d-don't like to talk about that place," he whispered meekly, eyes cast downward in shame.

Crane poured more tea into Tetch's cup and gave him a comforting smile. "It's alright, Mr. Tetch," he said reassuringly, using the same falsely-caring tone that he had often utilized during his time as a psychiatrist. "You know, I used to work at that asylum myself. And while I was there, I learned that those doctors don't always understand their patients. They don't realize that some people, like yourself, are simply misunderstood. People like you don't belong in a mental institution, Mr. Tetch. Not with all those..._unfortunate_ individuals. " Crane paused for a moment, carefully gauging Tetch's reaction before continuing. "They did the same thing to me, you know. The very same doctors that I had worked alongside for years locked me away in a cell and wouldn't let me leave. I was in there for a long, long time, and all because they didn't approve of the research I was conducting."

"Oh, how dreadfully _awful_," Tetch said sadly, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Yes," Crane replied mournfully. "It was. But I let myself out, and before I left I made sure that those doctors better understood my research."

He smiled at the memory of his former coworkers clawing at themselves in terror as his toxin seeped through the air ducts, their horrified screams filling the asylum with a satisfying melody as he made his escape.

"Is it time to go find Alice now?" Tetch began to fidget in his chair, no longer distracted by the spread of tea and delicacies laid out before him.

"Not just yet."

"Oh, where _is_ she?" Tetch's voice began to crack, his joy with the tea party now completely forgotten. "Do you know where she is? Have you seen her? Oh, she is _wicked _to keep me waiting!"

"I can only help if you do what I ask, Mr. Tetch," Crane replied calmly. "Your assistance is absolutely crucial. Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't be able to help you search for Alice, and then she might miss the party and then everything will be spoiled. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

Tetch gasped, as if the very idea both scandalized and devastated him. "But she can't miss the party! Not when there's tea and cakes and—oh, _why _did she have to run away from me?! I only wanted to bring her back to Wonderland with me, back where she belongs! B-b-but when I took her hand she started to_ scream_, and then she wouldn't _stop_ screaming, even after I told her that she was frightening the flowers and that they wouldn't sing for us if she didn't stop being a naughty girl. Oh, she can be a _nasty_ thing! Just _wretched_! And then—"

He paused, as if he'd reached a moment in his recollection that he found particularly unpleasant to discuss.

"And then?" Crane pressed.

Tetch narrowed his eyes in anger. "And then _he_ appeared," he growled, suddenly a much darker version of his self than the man Crane had witnessed sipping tea and fawning over pastries only moments ago. No longer was he the stammering, child-like fellow who broke into a sob over the mere utterance of Alice's name; the formerly pitiable Tetch had become furious and bitter, his face a vibrant red and his hands balled into fists, and Crane—who was no stranger to dangerous individuals and had become largely desensitized to menacing behavior—felt himself becoming uneasy. He wondered if it was this form of Tetch that the many Alices had seen before they were taken to away to Wonderland, never to be seen again, until the day that one of Tetch's neighbors complained of an overpowering stench emenating from his apartment and convinced the landlord to investigate the source of the smell...

"You're referring to Batman, aren't you, Mr. Tetch?"

Tetch nodded.

"Have you seen Alice since then?"

He shook his head gravely, a somber expression on his pockmarked face.

Crane sensed that Tetch was becoming increasingly sullen and withdrawn with every passing moment, and he decided to transition to a more appealing subject before the hatter shut down completely.

"Alice must be a very special girl," Crane said smoothly. "I've heard so many wonderful things about her."

Any trace of Tetch's foul mood vanished at the mention of Alice, and he instantly reverted back to the childish demeanor he had exhibited earlier, before their conversation had taken an unpleasant turn.

"Oh, she's _magnificent_," Tetch said, his voice trembling with reverence. "She's more beautiful than you could possibly _imagine_."

"It certainly sounds like—"

"Her hair is long and soft and the color of gold, and she has it tied back with the _sweetest_ little black bow," Tetch continued dreamily, so absorbed in his thoughts of Alice and her Wonderland that he had not even heard Crane's reply and was blissfully unaware that he had interrupted him. "And her eyes are blue and _sparkling_ with mischief and curiosity, and when she speaks she says the most _delightful_ things—oh, she's perfect, absolutely _perfect_, even when she's naughty!"

Crane smiled grimly, unsurprised by Tetch's theatrical description of his dearest Alice. The physical attributes of the hatter's victims had varied greatly—from the brunette college student interning at his lab, to the redheaded thirty-something cashier who worked regular shifts at the grocery store near his home, to the elderly and gray lady who had a habit of walking her dog every night in the alley next to his apartment complex—and yet he had described them all in the same prose-like manner, as if he had lifted a depiction from the pages of _Alice in Wonderland_ and imposed it onto the various women he encountered. To Tetch, they were _all _Alice, and so he had desired to possess them in the same devastating way that he had yearned for her.

But unlike darling Alice, these women did _not _want to go to Wonderland, and so they had been forced to wear one of his "special" hats. They no longer disobeyed Tetch, but they didn't do much of anythingelse either; they may have followed his every command, but otherwise their actions were limited to staring ahead blankly with vacant eyes, silent and thoughtless as they awaited their next instructions. Their dullness quickly became tiresome and boring for Tetch, who loved Alice for her curious nature and sense of adventure, and so they would leave Wonderland and join all of the other disappointing Alices before them underneath his floorboards.

"Do you think Alice will like the tea set, Mr. Tetch?"

"Oh yes, she _adores_ pretty things."

"And don't you think she would be impressed if you told her it was _yours?_"

Tetch's cheeks flushed pink with excitement at the thought, and he nodded eagerly.

"Remember, Mr. Tetch, all I require is your assistance, and then the tea set is yours to keep."

"And _then_ you'll help me search for Alice?"

"You have my word."

"Right away, so she that she isn't late?"

"Of course."

Tetch looked at the arrangement on the table before him; his eyes drank in the sight of the trays holding an assortment of treats and sandwiches, the vase of pale, blush-colored roses, the carefully placed silverware and folded napkins, before finally coming to rest on the tea pot. He gazed at it longingly, and Crane knew that he was imagining himself pouring a cup of tea for Alice, bursting with pride as she exclaimed that this was by far the best tea party she had ever attended.

He had his answer; all that was left was for the hatter to speak the words.

"Alright," Tetch whispered. "I'll do it."


End file.
